


Petit Verdot

by Mother_North



Series: Spectrum: Lighter shade [4]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One Shot, Pancakes as a Canadian curse, Patrick is a connoisseur, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: Patrick and Yuzuru spend a weekend in the rented lakeside cottage near Toronto.





	Petit Verdot

**Author's Note:**

> Usual RPF disclaimer applies to this work of fiction in full and it is not meant to offend anyone. There is zero correlation between the described events and real life and it is written for entertainment purposes only.

**

Patrick’s silvery jeep flies along the highway, early August sun flooding the scenery of dense pines, painting it orange and making it seem glittery-warm. He throws a side glance at Yuzuru at the front seat of the car: his eyelids are closed and he is mouthing words to some obnoxiously sounding J-pop song, which can be heard playing in the dynamics. Patrick considers an option to turn the volume down a bit but then, the notion that the weekend, which he longed for so long, and which, had required all of his diplomatic skills and countless minutes on the phone with _the one and only_ , might be put at stake makes him change his mind, in the end.

 

_“Maybe the following weekend then?”_

_“I have to train. Train hard.”_

_“C’mon just for two days, Yuzu… Two fucking days before you’ll start killing yourself with that damned quad axel all over again. Spare some of Brian’s nerve cells for a bit longer, at least!”_

_“Say please.”_

_“Please.”_

 

The road seems pleasant to Patrick, nevertheless — the green scenic route and the prospect of finally having an opportunity to be alone with Yuzuru, maybe even trying to make him let it all go for a time being, are improving his mood a great deal.

The problem is that Yuzuru’s tight training schedule, studying and highly-responsible public obligations in Japan used to rob Patrick of some quality passtime with him on a regular basis, apart from a meager hour or two, approximately twice a month.

His patience had its limits too.

It should be noted, that as a true _connoisseur_ by nature, Patrick doesn’t like to hurry with anything. He thinks of a bottle of _Petit Verdot_ in the car trunk, smiling inwardly — _some things in life are meant to be savoured properly at all costs_.

Sun glints are dancing over Yuzuru’s face through the car window and his dark eyelashes are fluttering against the smooth paleness of his cheek enticingly. Yuzuru goes outside so seldom, it is like a little treasure to witness the sun kissing his skin.

Patrick reminds himself that he has to watch the road more attentively, as the speedometer indicator needle is nearing 75 mph. It provides with an elusive sense of freedom and the insignificance of time, yet the summer is dying fast, each passing day bringing the beginning of the new skating season closer.

_It is still hard to believe that it doesn’t concern him directly anymore._

Patrick chases the unbidden thoughts away and squeezes the steering wheel harder.

They should reach their planned destination in less than an hour. Patrick spent the whole past week searching for a secluded log cabin to rent in Toronto region. At long last, he stopped his choice on the little comfy lakeside cottage, tucked among the pines, with a glassed-in veranda and a picturesque view across the shore.

Patrick senses Yuzuru staring at him, mischievous sparkles in the younger man’s bright eyes, not going unnoticed.

“What?”

“I’ll land it…Clean. Sooner or later…I will.”

Patrick sighs, rolling his eyes.

_Here we go again._

“Gosh, Yuzuru…Can you think of something other than the quad axel?”

Patrick realizes that such question in itself is already quite absurd, not to mention, that it is doubtless — a rhetorical one also. Patrick thinks he may try to continue the started conversation, seeing it, among other things, as a perfect opportunity to turn the volume of the music down. If it meant talking about figure skating with Yuzuru so be it.

“So, I wonder, what your music choices for the upcoming season are…”

Yuzuru’s smirk grows wider and Patrick notices the way his slender fingers are fidgeting with the beads of one of his bracelets.

“Confidential.”

The way Yuzuru is pronouncing the word, distorting it _oh, so_ _cutely_ , makes Patrick think that he has to hear Yuzuru saying it again.

“Why is that, let me ask? We are not rivals anymore and I am not telling anyone. Not a word… as still as a grave, you know.”

“I tell again…It is con…confident… _confidential_.”

Patrick laughs amused at Yuzuru’s endearing struggling with the word.

“You are irreparable, mon chaton*.”

He knows Yuzuru hates to be called like that but Patrick finds the harmless nickname to be quite fitting: not only because of Yuzuru’s extremely cute appearance but because of those little claws which, despite of being retracted, are no less sharp.

“You are making fun!”

Yuzuru is pouting those perfect lips of his capriciously and it takes all of Patrick’s willpower not to stop the car immediately — to start ravishing him the way he had desired for so long. It would have to wait, for now.

A quite tangible swat to his upper arm jolts Patrick out of his momentarily reverie.

_The little demon._

**

Patrick finds the interior of the cottage to be to his liking: the usage of strictly natural materials and a pleasant smell of wooden paneling, the prevailing warm hues of the residential finishing and the tasteful minimalism of the set of furniture. The atmosphere inside the cabin is relaxing and inviting and Patrick hopes that Yuzuru would like it too.

Yuzuru is looking around excitedly, like a child who has come to a new place for the first time: fingers touching the wooden textures, bare feet treading over the pile carpet soundlessly. He goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge only to find it empty, except for several bottles of mineral water. Yuzuru raises his eyes up to look at Patrick across the room questioningly.

Patrick tries to make his smile as reassuring as possible.

“Already hungry, huh..?”

He comes to Yuzuru, catching him into his arms from behind, snaking his hands around the younger man’s tiny waist. He feels Yzururu’s heated skin beneath his lips as he plants a kiss to his nape.

“Don’t worry, babe, I am planning to cook something. I thought of some delicious pancakes with maple syrup, which I am going to lick off of your lips and chin. What would you say about that, hmm?”

Yuzuru turns around in his embrace — his eyes stern and brow furrowed. Definitely, not the reaction Patrick was aiming for.

“You know I can’t eat those things. I can’t get fat.”

Patrick sighs and plants another kiss — this time to the corner of Yuzuru’s tempting mouth, his mind starting to imagine the sugary sweetness of the maple syrup, he would taste there soon, a bit _too vividly_.

“Now listen here. For these two days I want you to do whatever you want, Yuzu. Nothing is prohibited, no limitations. There are only the two of us — there is no ice and blasted axels, no outside world…Got me?”

Yuzuru looks down at Patrick’s lips and puts his arms around his neck, their bodies flush against each other. The contact is tingling Patrick’s blood.

“Yes. But…”

Patrick cups Yuzuru’s face with his hands, looking into his eyes deeply. If only he could take some of the burden heaped upon that fragilely-looking pair of shoulders. He remembers what it felt like being constantly chased after: the ever-present challenge and inner insecurities, the mass of growing expectations and the fear of losing — not to one of the competitors but to your own weakness, in the first place.

Patrick makes an attempt to discharge the suddenly tensed atmosphere, hanging in the air between them.

“Hey, don’t treat my home-cooked pancakes like a fucking _Canadian curse_ or something… You’d like them, I promise! Or maybe we can go fishing instead and try catching a huge salmon to be grilled for a late supper...I just never knew you were a fan of fishing before.”

Yuzuru’s eyes widen in blatant terror and he clings to the collar of Patrick’s t-shirt with all of his might.

“No! No fishing! You cook pancakes, I shower!”

Patrick smirks satisfied and steals a not-so-chaste kiss from Yuzuru’s readily parted lips. After a while, Yuzuru squirms out of his embrace and leaves to take a quick shower, while complaining about being dirty after the road trip. Patrick tends to disagree, thinking that nothing can beat the faintest scent of his slightly sweated skin: its sweet-vanilla musky notes making Patrick’s body liquefy with desire for him.      

Patrick is whistling _Hallelujah_ under his breath as he is looking over a pile of freshly-made pancakes, topped with a generous amount of maple syrup, on the white plate in front of him. Minutes seem to drag endlessly and there is a sting of heavy anticipation in his underbelly. He is listening to the running water closely, wondering what could have possibly taken Yuzuru so long. 

Meanwhile, Patrick opens a bottle of his favourite Bordeaux and pours it into a crystal glass. He takes a small sip of deep-violet liquid, savouring its exquisite piquancy on his tongue. He watches Yuzuru emerge from the bathroom — a white towel wrapped low around his narrow hips, chiseled torso and long neck still glistening from moist. His cheeks are tinted with the gentlest of pink and Patrick feels all of his blood rush to his crotch. Though, he has this vague intuitive feeling that Yuzuru is going to torture him for quite some time before actually letting him _touch_ or _taste_ or _both_.

Contradicting his own previous statement, Yuzuru bites into the pancake with gusto, closing his eyes and licking the small droplet of maple syrup in the corner of his mouth.

“Hmm…It tastes so… good.”

_I bet you do too._

Without uttering a word, Patrick takes another sip of wine, his eyes glued to Yuzuru’s fingertips covered in a sticky, sugary substance. Yuzuru notices Patrick’s darkened gaze. He takes his thumb into his mouth slowly to suck provocatively, a glimpse of his pinky tongue making Patrick shiver involuntarily.

Yuzuru is looking at him defiantly and Patrick’s breathe catches in his throat. 

“If I remember right you were telling something about _licking_ and…”

Yuzuru doesn’t have a chance to finish the sentence because the next moment Patrick is all over him. He bites his plump bottom lip greedily, making Yuzuru gasp, his tongue finding its way into his velvety mouth. Patrick takes his time tasting him, thinking that Yuzuru’s own natural sweetness is far headier than anything he had ever tasted — the tender skin of his chin,  the graceful curve of his neck, the refined smoothness of his collarbone…

_He craves more._

Patrick’s hands are sliding down Yuzuru’s back and he can’t get enough of the silkiness beneath his trembling fingertips, beginning to loose himself completely in Yuzuru’s intoxicating proximity.  

As a result, a hard shove to his chest comes as a total surprise to Patrick, making him stumble backwards.

“ _I lead…You follow.”_

Yuzuru’s voice is husky from arousal and Patrick smirks at him indulgently.

“Whatever it is you say, _mon petit_.**”

Yuzuru takes Patrick by the hand and they walk towards a large, ivory sofa. Patrick can’t restrain from pinching one of Yuzuru’s pert nipples playfully and Yuzuru slaps the back of his hand, simmering with feigned indignation.

“No hands till _I say so_.”

Patrick has learnt the rules of the game very well by now.

He raises his arms above his hand in a gesture of mocking capitulation, taking his place among the pillows on the sofa. He is devouring Yuzuru with his eyes as the younger man throws away the towel, the sight of his godlike body making Patrick’s mouth go dry.

Yuzuru straddles Patrick’s hips, starting to wriggle slowly and Patrick has to bite back a moan, his jeans seeming torturously constricting. He wants to place his hands at Yuzuru’s slender waist and to suck at his Adam’s apple, so there would be a mark impossible to conceal.

_His mark._

Yuzuru’s fingers are ghosting over Patrick’s mouth and he catches them between his lips, tracing their tapered tips with his tongue, his eyes never leaving Yuzuru’s flushed face. Yuzuru is worrying his lower lip with his teeth, his hips not stopping their languid movements for a minute.

“Let me touch you, Yuzu.”

“No.”

“Please.”

Patrick knows he is sounding shamelessly desperate but he doesn’t care at all. He sees Yuzuru’s eyes glow darkly, their black abyss threatening to swallow him up.

“I said _no_.”

Yuzuru slides to his knees between Patrick’s parted legs and his fingers are fumbling with a buckle of Patrick’s leather belt for the whole eternity, before he finally takes his achingly hard cock out, through the unzipped fly of his jeans. Patrick is a panting mess by now, cool air hitting the sensitive skin of his throbbing erection. Yuzuru’s slender fingers graze over the underside fleetingly and Patrick bucks his hips violently.

“Fuck, Yuzu…Being a little sadistic here, aren’t we..?”

Yuzuru shakes his head, eyelashes fluttering innocently against his porcelain cheeks. Patrick is showing miracles of restraint and self-control, his hands itching to just grab Yuzuru by the back of his head and make him deep throat him, the way he would like to. 

Yuzuru is watching Patrick’s expression intently as he wraps his moist lips around the tip of the cock to give it a single, firm suck.

Patrick’s jaw goes slack and he is groaning obscenely.

“Argh… Oui, comme ça…***”

Yuzuru retreats entirely in no time, leaving Patrick on the edge, gasping and shivering. Patrick clenches his fists at his sides, a little vein beating visibly, beneath the skin of his sweaty neck.

_“Ask.”_

Yuzuru’s voice is quiet and silky. His deadly glowing eyes are making Patrick’s head spin from the powerful surge of humiliation and excitement that is sweeping over his body. And even though, he the practically dressed one, he is feeling himself _utterly_ _exposed_ at the moment.

“Please.”

One simple word.

Yet, Yuzuru doesn’t move a muscle.

Patrick is biting his bottom lip, the intensity of the younger man’s stare is scorching and he has to drop his eyes — helpless and achingly aroused.

“Please, Yuzu. Do something… _Anything_ …”

“You mine?”

Patrick feels Yuzuru’s breath ghosting over the heated skin of his neck, as he is straddling his hips once again. It makes Patrick whine, a tiny droplet of sweat running down his temple, his hunger all-consuming.

“Yours… I am yours… Only yours, Yuzu… _Please_.”

Patrick’s breathless plea seems to be heard this time. Yuzuru grabs the base of his cock and impales himself slowly, taking it in inch by inch, his crimson lips bitten and brow furrowed in concentration. Patrick is cursing under his breath, throwing his head back — Yuzuru’s slicked tightness around him making his vision tunnel from delight.

After several torturously still moments, Yuzuru starts to ride Patrick in complete abandon, hoarse moans spilling from his bitten lips, as he is chasing his own satisfaction unabashedly.

_Patrick loves him this way: raw and wild and real._

Watching Yuzuru writhe in ecstasy is making jolts of pleasure course through Patrick’s own body: his toes curling against the carpet, a telltale sign of his swiftly approaching orgasm.

He is not able to contain himself any longer, gripping Yuzuru by the hips with a bruising force and beginning to thrust up into him roughly, the sofa creaking miserably beneath the two of them.

Yuzuru comes first with a single cry — hips totally losing their rhythm, hands clutching at Patrick’s shoulders as if for his dear life. Patrick is drowning in the delightful tremors of the younger man’s taut body as he topples over the edge, climaxing deep inside Yuzuru’s quivering heat.

The both of them are panting heavily, trying to regain their senses — still too shaken by the sheer intensity of their sex to utter a single word.

It felt as if Yuzuru had melted into Patrick: the older man nuzzling the sweaty skin of his neck, his frantic breathing tickling his ear, strong hands caressing his slender waist soothingly.

Patrick was in no hurry to pull out, basking at the shared intimacy of their entwined bodies. The experience felt almost _surreal_ and he caught himself thinking that he wouldn’t trade the moments they had just had for anything in the world.

Yuzuru rolled to his side with a wince.

“I think I’ll be sore tomorrow…”

“Well, actually it was _you_ _in the lead_ tonight, you know…”

Yuzuru closed his eyes, sighing contently, his hand searching for Patrick’s sweaty palm blindly.

“True… I just needed _really_ _hard_ and wasn’t sure uncle Patrick could still…”

“ _Uncle Patrick, huh?!_  How dare you, insolent boy!”

Patrick got giggling Yuzuru into a firm headlock; their bodies engaging into a spontaneous, good-humored match of some pretty messy wrestling immediately.

This time Patrick ended up on top, pressing Yuzuru’s squirming form into the sofa.  

“You are irrepressible, aren’t you?”

“ _Always.”_

“That’s why I am so wild about you.”

Yuzuru was smiling smugly as Patrick was trying to claim his lips with his own, albeit to no avail.

“I know.”

**

 

**Author's Note:**

> “Petit Verdot” is a variety of red wine grape, principally used in classic Bordeaux blends. When young its aromas have been likened to banana and pencil shavings. Strong tones of violet and leather develop as it matures.
> 
> *Mon chaton (fr.) – My kitten.
> 
> **Mon petit (fr.) – My little one.
> 
> ***Oui, comme ça… (fr.) – Yes, that’s it...


End file.
